


Coping in Bed

by fuzzy_logic9



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Day 5: there's only one bed, F/F, Fleurmione Week 2021, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hopeful though in the end, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, somewhat angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-29 00:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30147834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzy_logic9/pseuds/fuzzy_logic9
Summary: Hermione decides to go into cursebreaking after school, which annoys one Fleur.  But everyone has their secrets.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Comments: 5
Kudos: 112
Collections: Fleurmione Week 2021.1





	Coping in Bed

**Author's Note:**

> So while the prompt is clearly something meant to inspire sexy time stuff, my brain went the entire other way. It's weird like that, I know.
> 
> This is disconnected from my other FW Week entries, for what it's worth.

When Hermione Granger graduated, everyone wondered what she would do after school. After all, she was, academically, one of the top to ever graduate Hogwarts, and got top marks on her NEWTs even if she did skip her seventh year to hunt down the horcruxes. She had job offers from anyone and everyone.

But much to the shock of nearly everyone, she decided to go into cursebreaking for Gringotts.

"It allows me to use a fuller range of my talents," she explained. Most had expected her to go into the academic or political tracks, not cursebreaking.

Nonetheless, she moved up the ranks quickly at Gringotts, soon being sent on more and more dangerous missions. Each one she completed successfully.

That drew the ire of one Fleur Delacour.

The French witch felt her younger counterpart was way too cocky, despite her qualifications. Yes, the British witch had taken down one of the darkest wizards of all time, but the details were sparse, as if the trio had agreed no one would talk about it without the other two consenting.

Even the limelight loving Ron Weasley was quiet about what the three did from the time they vanished from Remus and Tonks Lupin's wedding till they showed up at Hogwarts for the climatic battle. Fleur was in France the whole time, keeping an eye on that side of the Channel for potential Death Eaters trying to spread across it, limiting how much she knew herself.

But somehow, some way, Fleur and Hermione kept on getting assigned together. The two of them generally made quick work of any assignment they had, which Fleur like, but...

She kept a close eye on the novice cursebreaker. She had dealt with those types before: great academic record, no publicly known experience, and felt like they could break any curse before them.

But Hermione overcame all the challenges before her. Wards fell with ease before her, her knowledge of warding runes, and wards in general, proving invaluable.

Fleur knew the fuck up would eventually happen.

But it never did. Hermione, for all her stubbornness, knew her limits. She knew when to step back and let the more experienced one of the two take over, watch, and learn.

And that little bit both pleased and infuriated Fleur: the "Golden Girl" was too perfect. Never a foot out of line, never getting overwhelmed, no matter what.

Then one day, it happened.

"What do you mean, 'Only one bed'!?" Fleur demanded from the hotel clerk.

"There was a mistake, miss, we accidentally rented out one of your two rooms. We'll give you the room for free, if that's ok?" came the offer.

Hermione chose that moment to step in. "Fleur, I can sleep on the floor, it's fine. I'm used to camping."

Why she was used to it went unsaid. Fleur heard the rumors, and she knew some had to be true.  


Fleur stared at the younger witch, who didn't back down, then relented. "Fine. We'll take the room."

"Perfect."

* * *

It was late in the night when Fleur was jolted awake by the bed suddenly shifting. "What are-"

Whatever protests she may have had died in her throat as she was hugged from behind. It wasn't a hug of love. It was a hug she was familiar with, one from when her sister would crawl into her bed after a nightmare. A hug of someone shaking in fear. Someone scared out of their mind.

"... 'Ermione?"

She only got a sniffle in response. Fleur swore silently. This wasn't good. She had heard some rumors, but nothing concrete. Nothing confirmed or denied by the Trio or anyone close to them. She thought what was rumored to have happened didn't even impact the younger witch. After all, she carried herself with confidence.

But Fleur knew she was wrong. She was  _ very _ wrong.

The war took a massive toll on the British witch, and Fleur was there to witness it, first hand.

So like many times before with her sister, she gently turned around, and pulled Hermione closer.

A soft, "I'm sorry.." came out from her, almost a breath.

Fleur said nothing, rubbing her colleague's back. The tears and shaking didn't stop.

All Fleur could wonder is what happened to the woman. The woman who stared down Bellatrix Lestrange and won.

With Bellatrix's own wand.

A woman who proved time and time again that blood purity was utter bullshit. "The Brightest Witch of Her Age" and other accolades.

But there she was, in her arms, shaking in fear.

Fleur pulled Hermione closer, continuing to rub her back. It was then she could finally realize what she was feeling from her sharper than human senses across the brunette's back. It wasn't the uneven fabric, they were too consistently placed for it to be folded clothing. No it was something else:

Scars.

All Fleur could conclude was that the rumors were true: Hermione  _ did _ get tortured. How the woman could even consider cursebreaking after the war completely confused Fleur for a moment, but that moment passed quickly.

"Are you...?" Fleur hesitantly asked.

The sobs stopped for a moment as Hermione tried to gather herself. "I... I don't know. I really don't anymore..."

Fleur gave the younger witch a reassuring squeeze. "If... you want to talk..."

It all spilled out, suddenly. The months on the run. The torture. Her parents. Everything. Everything that was bottled up couldn't stay bottled anymore and spilled out. She didn't seem to care that Fleur, at best, was indifferent to her, and at worst, actively hated her.

But Fleur was the first to really ask. Harry was still processing his own trauma, and Ron was... Fleur didn't push that. Fleur only listened, letting Hermione decide what to share and what not to.

In the end, the French witch had a much better respect for her British counterpart. The woman had endured so much, but kept on fighting.

Finally the brunette exhausted herself, and fell back to sleep. Fleur sighed, holding the younger woman close, as if to ward off future nightmares, much like she did with her sister.

"Keep fighting, 'Ermione... but realize you're not alone."

* * *

**The Next Morning**

"Fuck! I'm sorry!" Hermione tried to wiggle out of Fleur's embrace.

"Non."

The single word stopped the Brit. "What do you mean, no?"

"Don't be, mon amie."

"But..."

Fleur sighed. "'Ermione, you've been through a lot. It was the least I could do."

Brown eyes met blue. "Why... I thought you hated me!" Tears started welling up in Hermione's eyes.

"I found you arrogant. All good grades, talent but lacking in experience. I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. You 'ave experience, more than anyone at your age should."

Hermione looked down and sighed. Fleur pulled her into a tight hug again, and the two lay there for a bit.

"But... as your senior, I do recommend one thing."

"What?"

"Talk to a 'ealer, someone who is skilled with dealing with that sort of trauma. It's a common issue with cursebreakers. We see and deal with a lot. I can even accompany you, if you please."

Hermione looked down again.

Fleur sighed. "If it's about your image, I-"

"It's not that! It... hurts to talk about. I... lock up, usually. Last night was the first night I really opened up to  _ anyone _ about it. I'm afraid someone is going to have some preconceived notion of who I am, a hero, someone who  _ shouldn't _ be suffering from PTSD."

Fleur hugged her again. "If you want, I could 'ave you go to a 'ealer in France. They'll be less likely to know you and less likely to judge you based on who you are right away."

"... Sure... I'd like that..."

* * *

Years later, Fleur rubbed the back of her wife as she held her in their shared bed. It took a while and some serious therapy, but eventually the brunette came to terms with the trauma. She still had her moments, but they were few and far between now.

The two started dating shortly after that night, Fleur providing Hermione a means of stability that Ron never provided. And a couple years after that, Hermione proposed. They were thinking of having children soon, but for now, it was the two of them, and life was good.


End file.
